Perfectly Blue

“He’s just different is all,” declared Jason’s mother.

“Different. That’s what you call it?” blurted his father as his brow greeted his nose. “Where is “just different” going to get him in life? What’s going to become of our boy, Mildred?”

“Leave him be,” insisted Ma. “Stop your fretting. He does his chores. Leave the schooling part to me.”

When the last planting of corn has been harvested and the hickory leaves drop, Jason smiles in anticipation of the first Nebraska snow. Tis the season Rune Bear comes to greet him deep in the woods behind the farm. No one, not even Ma or his treasured sheep dog Shiloh has seen the blue Rune Bear but him. He knows this for a fact because the glowing runes speak to him. Not in an audible sense, but in a knowing way all the same. It’s not like they give him all the answers to the many things he doesn’t understand, but they give him exactly what he needs to get by. Who of any of us knows all?

“Rune Bear,” communicated Jason, “Why did God make me different?”

And the Rune Bear understood that Jason thought different was bad. “God made you different and perfect. Different is special. And isn’t it special that we found each other? And isn’t it special that you can decipher my runes?”

Then Jason and Rune Bear sat for a piece on a log in the snow. The cold didn’t bother them as they silently contemplated life and each other. “Ma calls me special too, Rune Bear.”

Before the sun set, they parted. As Jason walked back toward the farm he couldn’t help but notice the stillness he felt, in spite of the howling wind from the east.

“There’s my boy,” said Ma. “Time for supper.”